Sten (Sten #1) by Allan Cole Chris Bunch

Author:Allan Cole, Chris Bunch [Bunch, Allan Cole, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ingram Distribution
Published: 2011-12-15T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Basically, Sten decided, he didn’t give a Mig’s ass. He touched the anodizer to the last bit of exposed metal on his weapon’s belt, then tucked it back in his cabinet.

Then looked up.

Tomika stood there, kitbag in hand.

He decided, for about the gigatime, she was the nicest-looking thing about training. And he’d tried. Indeed he’d tried.

“Who’s paired with you, Sten?”

“My left hand,” he said.

She tossed her ditty on his bunk and started patting the pillow into shape. Sten’s mouth dropped.

“Uh, Tomika? I asked before and —”

“I don’t bag with NCOs. I got standards.”

Sten suddenly decided it not only wasn’t important, but it was funny. Broke his laugh off as he looked at Gregor.

“You see what I meant,” Gregor said. “And you were wrong.”

“I’m always wrong, Gregor. Howcum this time?”

“They are arbitrary. They wouldn’t give me the rank I deserve. And they broke you. You see?”

“Nope. Far as I can see, I stepped on it.”

“It’s right there. In front of you.”

Sten decided that Gregor was getting a little shrill.

“DNC, troop. Does not compute.”

“My father taught me that any business that doesn’t respond to new stimuli is doomed. That’s the Guard. All they want is cannon fodder. Anybody who doesn’t fit their idea of a moron hero, they’ll put to scutwork. And if they make a mistake, like they did with you, they’ll bust him down as soon as they see it.”

“You really believe that, Gregor,” Tomika said.

“Dash-A right I do,” Gregor said. “I’ve written another letter to my father, Sten. He’ll see things are rectified.”

Sten sat up. “You, uh, mention me?”

“No, I did not. Just like you would have wanted. But you will regret it. You’ll see.”

And Gregor laughed, turned, and walked back toward his bunk.

“Hey, Ex Recruit Trainee Small Time Corporal Sten? Is he two zeds short of a full count?”

Sten didn’t answer her, just listened to Gregor’s laughter as he clambered into his bunk.

* * * *

“And what happens when I do this?”

Tomika giggled. Sten suddenly sat up in his bunk and put a hand over her mouth. Movement. A buried snicker. Tomika reached up and grabbed him, pulling Sten down to the pillow.

“No, Sten,” she breathed. “Wait.”

Sten did — for a long count of heartbeats.

And then the shouting started.

Somebody hit the lights, and Sten bolted out of the bunk. The shouting came from Gregor’s area.

Sten rolled out of his bunk, reflexively sliding up into an attack stance. And then he slumped down again, laughing helplessly.

Gregor screamed louder and started flailing.

Sten and the other recruits gathered around Gregor’s area. The man did have problems.

“It’s the Giant Spider of Odal,” somebody said in a mock hushed voice. “You’re in trouble, Gregor.”

Gregor was indeed in trouble. Somebody must’ve snuck a spray can of climbing thread out of the training area the day before. And while Gregor slept, he, she, or they had spun the thread from bunk to cabinet to boots to bunk to combat shoes to cabinet to end up connected to Gregor’s nose.

The high-test, incredibly sticky goo made a very effective spider web, Sten decided.

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